


taste so good (make a grown man cry)

by haleofStilesheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Castiel Bakes, Castiel Makes Pie For Dean Winchester, Castiel is a Sweetheart, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pie, Sam Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Several days ago, Cas did something unspeakable. He ruined Dean's pie.In an attempt to make it up to Dean, Cas decides to bake him a pie.





	taste so good (make a grown man cry)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MeteoraWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeteoraWrites/gifts).



> For the prompt: "Damnit, Cas! That was my pie!"

The list of foods that Cas knew how to make was extremely short. It included peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, pop tarts, and microwave popcorn.

Yet there he was in the Men of Letters kitchen, trying to bake a pie.

A quick glance around the kitchen, at the mess spread over the counters and the various dirty utensils strewn over said counters, provided evidence enough of the great effort he had put into his endeavor. Cas was never one to do anything half-assed, which is sort of how he would up having to bake a pie in the first place.

A few days prior, Dean had decided to treat himself with a decadent slice of cherry pie from a diner in Missouri. He insisted that he deserved it after both single-handedly figuring out what the creature they were hunting actually was — a redcap, thus why it was stealing blood from its victims — and finding a way to kill it — an oak stake through the heart.

Sam and Cas had both conceded that Dean had in fact earned it, especially after getting tossed around by the goblin before he managed to kill it. For once Sam hadn't bothered to say a single word about his brother's unhealthy diet, merely rolling his eyes when Dean placed his order for dessert.

The slice of pie itself was a beauty to behold; bright red cherries, gold flaky crust, intricate lattice work on top. A dollop of whipped cream topped off the pie, two scoops of vanilla ice cream beside it on the plate.

It had looked so good that Dean had made Sam take a picture on his phone, even though he often made fun of people who took pictures of their food, muttering about something called Instagram. Cas didn't understand how a gram could be instant or what that had to do with pictures of food but he kept his concerns to himself.

Especially since a moment later, Cas completely ruined the evening.

When their waitress, a pretty brunette with big brown eyes who had been flirting with Dean throughout their meal, had delivered his slice of pie along with a flirtatious wink, Cas had been in the bathroom. The angel's hands had been messy enough after finishing his barbecue bacon cheeseburger, his fingers covered in sweet, tangy Kansas City style barbecue sauce, that he had excused himself to the bathroom to wash his hands.

After drying his hands as much as he possibly could with the tissue paper thin napkins the diner provided, Cas returned to the table. Dean lifted his plate to show off his slice of pie, like a cat proudly presenting its owner with the dead bird it had killed, as Cas walked down the aisle of the diner towards their table.

Before he could slide back into the booth, a man strode past him, shoulder checking him in the process with enough force to send him crashing into the corner of their table. In addition to spilling a piping hot coffee all over both himself and his seat, the arm he held out to brace himself ended up knocking Dean's plate out of his hands.

Cas had been certain that he had heard Dean's heart shatter as his beautiful piece of pie landed on the floor.

Astonishment and disbelief, mixed with some grief, had quickly melted away to reveal pure frustration. Dean had thrown his hands up in angry exasperation as he growled, "Damn it, Cas! That was my pie!"

The flirty waitress had returned to their table to find Cas apologizing profusely, kneeling on the floor as he desperately tried to clean up the splattered cherries and melting ice cream. She had handed him a few extra napkins, wrinkling her upturned nose at the mess, before flouncing back to the kitchen to procure Dean another slice of pie.

With no one else around to see, Cas had used a tiny bit of his grace to make the clean up easier, still mumbling apologies. Their waitress returned again as Cas was mopping coffee off of his seat, regretfully informing Dean that there was no more pie left.

She had trailed her long bright red nails over the line of her cleavage as she insinuated that if Dean wanted something sweeter than pie, her shift ended in half an hour. Cas' heart had lodged itself in his throat as he wiped up the spilled coffee with renewed fervor, valiantly trying to tamp down on the jealousy flaring up inside of him.

To Cas' infinite relief, Dean had declined. Instead, he had asked for the check and tossed a few singles on the table as a tip.

Dean had brooded the rest of the way back to the Bunker. Cas had been wracked with guilt the entire drive.

After returning to the Bunker, Cas had dedicated himself to making it up to Dean somehow, well aware that he had completely ruined the hunter's evening by spoiling his little indulgence. But after visiting several local diners, and some that were a few towns over, Cas hadn't found any cherry pies that compared to the one he had desecrated in Missouri.

Thus, he had decided to make his own pie.

Of course, he had immediately run into the hurdle that was the fact that he did not know the first thing about making a pie. But the internet was a marvelous thing even if he still did not fully trust computers.

He had spent two days simply researching. Researching the best ways to keep pie crust from falling apart when rolled. Researching different lattice patterns and other ways to top pies. Researching how to make ice cream that he could serve with the pie.

Only after researching all of that and the hundreds of other questions and concerns he had about pies and pie making did Cas finally begin looking up pie recipes. Specifically cherry pies.

He compared dozens of recipes, checking their ratings when the websites hosting the recipes included five star scales and reading through every single comment. He was not having much luck deciding on which recipe he should use until he found a recipe that he knew Dean would greatly appreciate.

The title of the recipe was rather straightforward: Cherry Whiskey Pie With Crumb Topping. It immediately caught Cas' attention as he scrolled through a recipe blog on something called Tumblr.

The pictures showcased a glorious looking pie, garnished with a liberal, but not gratuitous, pile of brown sugar crumb topping. In other pictures, single slices of pie were shown, highlighting the cherry filling, scoops of vanilla ice cream plopped on top.

Cas had instantly decided that was the pie he was going to bake in order to properly apologize to Dean.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that the recipe did not include any anecdotes that were completely irrelevant to the recipe itself. He did understand what long winded stories about children's birthday parties or detailed descriptions of local farmer's markets had anything to do with baking but he simply dismissed it as yet another human thing he did not fully comprehend.

Following the recipe to the t, Cas mixed flour, salt, butter, and ice water together to make the pie crust; soaked and cooked the pitted cherries in some Jack Daniel's; and combined brown sugar, flour, and butter for the crumb topping. In the process, he had made quite a mess of the kitchen but a mere wave of his hand would rectify that before Dean returned.

Earlier that afternoon, Dean had left to go shopping for some new clothes, pointing out that he needed some new jeans. He had invited Cas along, reminding the angel that he could use some new clothes himself.

As much as Cas would have liked to go with Dean, always enjoying their time together, he knew that he might not get another chance to bake Dean his pie. Not wanting to outright lie to Dean, having done that enough in the past, Cas had simply explained that there was something that needed his attention.

Dean had just grinned and announced that meant he could play his music as loud as he wanted without having to hear anyone complain. With a few quick goodbyes, he had grabbed his keys and made his way to the Bunker's garage.

The closest Walmart was in Hays, nearly two hours away, meaning Cas had an ample amount of time to make the pie. He made the crust, mixed the whiskey and cherries, prepared the crumb topping, baked the pie, whisked up some whipped cream, and hand churned a batch of vanilla ice cream.

He even had time to clean the kitchen without the use of his grace before Dean returned. Cas knew it the moment Dean re-entered the loft, so attuned to Dean that he immediately picked up on the familiar sound of his heartbeat.

Even without his enhanced senses, he could hear the slam of the garage door and the thudding tattoo of Dean's heavy boots. Sam lifted his head and turned to smile widely at Cas from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, a book spread open in front of him.

He had helpfully read the various recipes aloud for Cas from his phone so Cas didn't have to keep looking back and forth as he worked. For reference, he had shown Cas the picture he had taken of the pie from the diner in Missouri, the angel striving to replicate it as much as possible.

The second he heard Dean's heartbeat, before he was within a mile of the Bunker, he launched into action. He carefully arranged a large slice of warm pie on a plate, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he laid a dollop of whipped cream on top of the slice and scooped some ice cream onto the plate.

"Perfect," Sam commented, giving Cas an enthusiastic thumbs up and a radiant smile. When Cas bit his lip and glanced skeptically at his presentation, he insisted, "Really, Cas. He's gonna love it."

As if on cue, Dean's footsteps grew louder as he wandered down the hallway towards the kitchen. Tramping further into the Bunker, he called, "Yo, Cas! I got ya the coolest shirt, man."

He appeared in the doorway a moment later, carrying several plastic bags in each hand. His mouth was open to say something but he paused before uttering a single word, teeth clicking as he closed his mouth, blatantly sniffing the air.

"Someone bake something?" Dean asked, setting his bags down in the doorway before taking a few more steps into the kitchen. He snorted out a laugh when he noticed the apron Cas was wearing, splattered with cherry filling and traces of whipped cream.

When Cas glanced over at Sam, he found him nodding his head and making a rolling motion with his hand, mouthing 'now'. Nodding in response, Cas grabbed the plate of pie he had arranged. Holding it up to Dean for inspection, Cas intelligently announced, "Pie."

"Yeah, I can see that, Cas," Dean chuckled, taking the plate from Cas' hand with only a glance at the pie. He did a double take, shaking his head in disbelief and blinking down at the slice of pie. "This looks like the pie from that diner. Did you go b—"

Cas shaking his head was enough to make Dean cut himself off. Folding his hands behind his back, Cas admitted, "I baked you a pie. To make up for the one I made you drop at the diner."

"You baked me a pie?" Dean murmured softly, staring down at the pie with undisguised awe and palpable surprise. Raising his eyes to meet Cas' as Sam made a discreet exit, tiptoeing out of the kitchen, Dean went on, "Just because I dropped a slice?"

"You were rather upset," Cas pointed out, chewing his bottom lip again. Tipping his head to the side, he quietly elaborated, "I wanted to apologize. You were very excited about having pie and I ruined it."

"Aww, Cas..." Dean drawled, slumping his shoulders as he set the plate of pie back down on the counter. He reached over to run his hands down Cas' arms, grabbing Cas' hands to run his thumb over the angel's knuckles. "I was tired and crabby. I wasn't actually mad at you."

"I know," Cas claimed, gently squeezing Dean's hands in his own. With a small smile, he explained, "But you were disappointed. And you deserved pie. You still do."

The second the words left his mouth, Dean startled a gasp out of Cas by grabbing him by the hips and hoisting him up so he was sitting on the counter beside the plate of pie. He stretched his arm out to dip his finger in some of the melting vanilla ice cream.

After gathering some ice cream, he dragged the pad of his finger over Cas' bottom lip, slathering it with vanilla. Dean dipped his head a moment later to capture Cas' lips in a deep kiss, Cas' lower lip cooler than usual as he enthusiastically returned the kiss.

"Y'know, angel," Dean breathed, breaking the kiss to run his nose over Cas' cheek. "You're even sweeter than pie."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here,](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)  
>  maybe send me a prompt or two!


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